I know I said we'd narrow the field to five finalists, but it's my blog and I decided we're going to have six. Don't you like how that works?

Now, it's your turn to pick a winner. Post your vote in the comments by noon PST on Sunday, May 6. If your entry is one of the six
finalists shown here, feel free to lobby for votes via Facebook,
Twitter, your own blog, or by offering sexual favors to other readers by explaining clearly and professionally why you deserve to win.

I'll tally the votes on Sunday and announce the winner on next Monday's blog. He or she will win a signed copy of Believe it or Not and the admiration of everyone who reads this blog.

So here are the entries . . .

ENTRY #1

The Pink Slip

By Carrie Crain

1973. THE YEAR OF DISCO. At twenty-eight, I was the first female rookie agent
for the FBI in D.C. and when you’re a promptitude cowgirl from Texas who handles a
Thompson Machine Gun better than her male counterparts, life at the Bureau
wasn’t amazeballs.

Jack Justice squozed a “pink slip” in my hand. Jack had been with the Bureau
since the Hoover
administration. He knew the routine: let the last one who received a raise go
first. FBI referred to it as ‘taking the hit.’

“Sorry, bitchtits. Life sucks,” he said.

I kicked his shin. “Life sucks, douchewaffle,” I said.

ENTRY #2

The Fictzophrenic
Writer
By Joy Keeney

“Ah tweedlefuck, I’ll go wackadoo if I don’t get thingamabob edited.” she said
pouring another clup of glomp. She was determined to make this book
fantabulous; the gregacious book club would be conversating about it for
infinimore yes this book would be amazeballs.

“I’ll show that douchewaffle I can write and what I think of her pompitude.”
She said reaching for the bottle…it was her 5th clup this morning. The more she
drank the more medimathical she wrote and her typing sounded like kirchkening.

3 hours later…squeeee mudderfugger this story is done!

ENTRY #3

Just for the squeee
of it...

By Ashton

“Wait till you get a load of this wtfery. I was sitting there conversating
happily with Angie, and snap, in a second, she goes from gregacious to all
angstian. She just glomps on to me, and I'm like, you want me to sherpa your
emo, bitchtits? Amazeballs. I managed un-squoze myself and got the hell away
from her kirchkening.”

“So you were just like, ‘I’ll be over here, being a douchewaffle? I can’t
believe you would do that! Angie loves you infinimore! That’s fantabulous,
Mudderfugger.”

“Sorry I’m late, my sweet fictophrenic, traffic was a mudderfugger.” Oblivious
to the weather, his gaze only on me, he added, “I love you infinimore. Will you
marry me?”

Qua-Nong!

“Squeeeee!” Nothing like a proposal to make me forget my glomp. “Absomondo, I
will.”

The kiss that followed was stupendalicious.

ENTRY #5

SLINKING
By J. Sofie Seamands

Glomp.

Glomp.

Glomp.

Cue-Nong!

His foot hit metal, and the hoe’s handle popped up to meet his third eye.

Holding his head, his vision fogged. His body stiffened as he let out a grunt.
After pausing a few seconds to catch his breath, he stepped around the planter
boxes.

Granted, slinking out - err - leaving - in the dark wasn’t his best move. But
seriously. What’s a guy to do when a “lady’s” so free with fluffs, frequent
with the squeeees, and hard with the diangulation?

Girls just don’t get it: if you can’t sleep with ‘em, you’ll never stay over.

ENTRY #6

The Mystery of the
Angstian Fictzophrenic Woman
By Phillip Doyle

My gregacious secretary make a loud “Squeeeeee” just before she busted into my
office. “Speed! We gotta a new client in da awfice – ain’t that just
fantabulous?” “Easy Bitchtits, I gotta meets da mudderfugger whatchamathingy
and makes sure they’re not some wackadoo douchewaffle.” “Tweedlefuck!!” I said
to myself when she entered. She was not the kind you would toss outta the sack
for Diangulating while you left to peepulate. She was a bit pompitude
certainly, but the way she had her thingamabobs squoze in that dress they
looked like two grunions ripe for the picking! “I’m Speed Walker – Private
Medimathical."

I was all set to vote for #3 and then I read #6 which actually made me laugh out loud (as in for real, not just a polite lol). I'm going to have to go with my heart here (sorry, I'm channeling my inner Christina from The Voice) and go with #6.

I agree with the anonymous who said he could see Bogie saying "Easy Bitchtits" but it would work even better with "Here's lookin at you Bitchtits!" I love the old Raymond Chandler etective novels number 6 has my vote!!

Who the @#$% are you?

I'm an author of quirky romantic comedies for Montlake Publishing and Sourcebooks, including Making Waves, which was nominated for contemporary romance of the year by RT Book Reviews. I also write interactive fiction capers for Coliloquy and the steamy, heartwarming Front and Center series for Entangled Publishing. I'm represented by Michelle Wolfson of Wolfson Literary Agency. Email me at tawnafenske at yahoo dot com.